#yet also remind me of what I have and love

[crazyvik97rpg]

William said out loud what Sebastian had hoped indeed - the cancer was gone, out of his system. Annihilated. It felt relieving to know that it was no longer in his body, spreading. Knowing that felt...relieving. As if a big step was made and yet...Sebastian still couldn't return back to normal fully. The last month had been extremely demanding, mentally and physically - the appointments, the diagnosis, Sebastian had worried a lot, had had many sleepless nights. More than ever he wanted this to be over already - but he feared it only just begun.

William was very happy about the outcome either way - smiled and cheered, reminded Sebastian of his kitties and how happy they'd be once he'd come home in a few days. And it was true, today marked a successful day. Sebastian should put away his frown.

"It really is great, darling. That's...at least good news at last", he smiled softly and brought William's hand closer to his stomach, just holding it there, "And yea...god, I'm already missing them. No Snowflake to snuggle with me tonight...", he pouted a little and then looked at his beloved, squeezed his hand, "And also no William. When mom and dad are going to visit later...how long will you stay? ...I know that you've got work tomorrow, so I understand if you can't stay long".

Well, of course Sebastian would have loved for William to just stay with him the whole night, but that simply wasn't possible for multiple reasons. He supposed this was something he had to do alone. He wasn't happy about it - but he also couldn't do anything about it. And speaking of work - he remembered one more thing.

"Oh gosh...speaking of, by tomorrow I won't be able to keep up this little secret any longer . ...Will you-...tell the others? I will be gone for at least two more weeks if not longer. ...I admit I didn't handle it-...perfectly. Well...it's too late now anyway...", he sighed, looking at William's hand in his lap, idly playing with his fingers, "I hope they won't be too mad about it..."

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[superblysubpar]

This may seem silly, but it's helped me a lot and it may help you.

It is times like this that I like to pretend that I'm in a story.

If I'm just the character in a story right now, I can imagine that this pit, this despair, this hopelessness, is just what the sick and twisted author wanted. We're at the part of the story where our protagonists, me, you, us, have lost all hope. The enemy doesn't want us to get back up, and right now, we have no intention of doing so, so they think they've won. The cord in space has been tethered from ship and communication with NASA isn't going through. Uncle Ben and Aunt Mae and Uncle Aaron and Gwen are gone. The radios aren't working, no one is coming for help. Max Mayfield isn't going to wake up and we're all just a bunch of kids who didn't win.

And you're so at a loss for how to move on, even if you wanted to, and that's okay. You're defeated, you're scared, you're hurt, you're hopeless.

But you aren't alone.

Because, see, if you remind yourself you're in your story, there's me, and so many others, that are clutching their book with a booklight at 2am, desperate for you to get up. Or in their living room with their hands on their head screaming that you have to win. Or clutching a blanket up to their chin with a melting pint of Cherry Garcia in hand, sobbing, begging you to keep going.

You have to keep going. This isn't how your story ends.

And it's okay if you can't see it yet. It's okay to stay sad, and hurt, and scared, but eventually, I need you to get up and keep going. We all need you to keep going.

It may not be easy, getting back up when everything just wants to keep you down, but we'll help you, in any way we can. And when you do - you can help other people, who may be even less safe, more scared, who are also unable to get out of this part of their story alone.

Please keep going. March, make calls, vote again in two years and again in four. Donate to shelters, donate to individuals, donate to organizations - if you can't donate, volunteer, spread their message, ask others to help in any way they can. Pay for someone's coffee in line. Kiss and hug people you love. Write and read silly stories. Listen, talk, engage and keep faith that change can happen from many small acts of it. And most importantly, be kind.

I love you, mean it 💛

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 84 (Checking In On the Clinic - and Another Baby Boom??)

cw: it's not a Conther baby I'll just say that right now. Sorry!

On top of her responsibilities to her family, Heather worked hard to keep Buttercup Pet Clinic's great reputation, but life at work was rarely easy.

She'd recently noticed a dip in her ratings and was tech-savvy enough to realize she'd been targeted. She traced the IPs to an address connected to George Brindleton's old company and gave the evidence to Conrad.

"He's trying to hurt my business because he's still sore over losing his, but as long as he's not going after the kids, I can take whatever he wants to throw at me. My clients know how good we are."

Conrad remembered his threat to sniff around Brindleton & Sons old financial files, but with this evidence he had cause for something better. "We're filing a restraining order," he insisted. "For you and the kids, because next time he might try to do more than hire a bot farm to drag your reviews down. But if I have to stay away from him, too, I can't look into his finances, if it comes to it."

"Is a restraining order really necessary? What if it makes him more upset? I'll always let you know if I hear from him again, but I'd love to just forget we ever met him."

Conrad nodded apologetically. "It's necessary. He just needed to do something stupid like this before I could file for one. Just keep focused on your clinic. I've got my eye on George Brindleton."

Heather tried to increase the value of her clinic's furnishings, but she lacked a real aesthetic eye and now she also had marketing expenses. With every passing day she worked hard, and though sometimes it never seemed enough, George Brindleton wouldn't break her.

One cold winter morning, Kaori Hayashi, Heather's best vet tech, tended to local blacksmith Abby Harms' Australian Shepherd, Jax. As Heather finished with another patient, Spencer Pancakes surprised her old friend when she brought her dog, JJ, to the clinic.

It wasn't that she'd brought her pet, as she had so many times before, but Spencer sported a sizable baby bump, too.

"Spencer! I can't believe it! I thought the doctors said-"

"They were wrong!" (Mod conflicts! Sorta wrecks the surrogacy storyline but also whatever.) "Needless to say, we didn't expect it. We kept it to ourselves until Dr. Scott said we were healthy. We wanted to tell you!"

"Are you feeling okay about it? I know you didn't want a big family."

Spencer sighed. "Everett's thrilled. I had to move another work trip to Selvadorada, but I'm making the best of it. I took my mom's advice and started painting, and it's nice that Lydia and I are pregnant at the same time. Since it's her first and I need all the help I can get, we're kind of in it together. The pregnancy really does feel like a miracle, and Everett's an incredible father."

"Your boys have a great mom, too." Spencer offered a pitiful smile, and Heather remembered her last visit with Spencer's father-in-law. "Bob came in with one of his cats back in the fall and he mentioned he was worried about you. I kept meaning to call and plan a trip like he suggested, but life's been so busy, and...I didn't want to believe what he was saying, I guess. It didn't feel like any of my business."

(Quick for new readers, Heather doesn't want to intrude on their family because Jett is her biological son with Everett, conceived via science as Heather was their surrogate. She's tried to set a clear boundary to avoid any confusion for or about toddler Jett.)

Spencer nodded. "Bob means well. And I'm doing okay, really. The baby kicks all the time. Like right now. Here: feel. Since we moved back to Henford, it's been better. We haven't had any snow yet!"

"Don't remind me. I miss the mild winters in Henford, but Ash really loves the snow. It's great enjoying it through his eyes."

"The boys love living with my parents and running through the fields like we did. Everett's family comes around all the time, and he's happier at the parish in Henford. Oh! Would you believe that old fox, Pawbin Hood, is still alive?! He's still wearing the Sherwood Forest get up you bought from the creature keeper when we were fourteen!"

"I guess I'm not surprised; I swear, the foxes will outlive us all. Everett thinks they react differently to the wild mushrooms than sims do." Gently, she steered the conversation back to her friend. "And all of that sounds great for everybody else. But what about you, Spence?"

"On days I'm feeling overwhelmed, I'm just glad everyone's there to pick up the slack."

"What about work?"

"Paused for now, I guess. At this point I won't get back to Selvadorada until this one's out of diapers." She pointed to her bump. "But if you can get away, you should come with me next time I go. You're just as good at identifying artifacts, and you love exploring the jungle as much as I do."

"I would love that," Heather said, awash with nostalgia over their first trip to the jungle for Spencer's bachelorette. After their quick visit, she tended to JJ - who was fine other than a mild case of lava nose - and she sent them on their way with a refill of organic disinfectant spray to keep treating him.

Later that afternoon, Heather took a moment to relax and hydrate when she was met by another surprise visitor. The woman walked in heavily pregnant and disguised under a bandana and sunglasses, but Heather recognized her name from her digital sign-in sheet. "Emi Wise? You used to be Emi Kudo, didn't you? You were a vet tech here when I was in high school!"

Emi looked around to ensure she didn't recognize any other faces in the lobby. "I remember you and your parents," she admitted. "When I used VetConnect to find a clinic to help my Olive, I realized Sorrel Jackson sold you this place. I like the rebrand, and I liked it even better when I saw you got away from Landgraab Corp. I think you might be the only vet in Simlandia who can help us. That's the only reason I risked coming back here."

As Heather healed Olive in an exam room, Emi noted the place hadn't changed much since she'd worked there. "You've rebranded, and you should really invest in a whole new look. My husband's an architect, and I think he could design something incredible. When Olive has to come back for her follow-up appointment, I'll bring him with me so he can get a look at the place, if you want."

"That sounds great, actually. I'm always looking for ways to really spruce this place up!"

Heather called Conrad to set one more plate at the table for dinner before she invited Emi to her home next door. Grateful for Heather's hospitality so she and Olive could rest a little before their long journey home, Emi opened up about her life in the years since she'd left Brindleton Bay in such a hurry.

"I had an affair with a married man, and he chose his wife, of course. I was so young and naive. I had no idea what to do, but I knew I couldn't stay. So I bought a one-way plane ticket to Evergreen Valley because it felt far enough away from here. I met a man and fell in love a month after I got to town, and he raised the twins like they were his own from the day they were born. We had a son together, and this one will be a girl."

"It sounds to me like everything worked out for the best. You don't have to tell me who the father is, but there are rumours around town."

(Basically, it's a good thing Kaori finished up with Jax and Mrs. Harms before Emi and Olive showed up!)

Emi's face went white. "Please don't tell him or his wife I was here. I promised I wouldn't ever ask for a thing for the boys, but if they see me here they might think I want to cause trouble."

"Your secret's safe with me," Heather promised.

True to her word, Emi brought her husband Layne for Olive's follow up, and he and Heather spoke about plans to revamp the clinic completely - a total rebuild, with class, elegance, and in keeping with Brindleton Bay's coastal charms.

Buttercup Pet Clinic was a place where people felt comfortable being open and vulnerable, and Heather heard her fair share of gossip inside the clinic walls. She was becoming something of a neighbourhood confidante, and took it seriously when people trusted her with their problems. With this in mind, Layne offered to add a small cafe - a relaxed gathering place for owners to wait for their pets and sip coffee. Heather was excited, and couldn't wait for spring to get started on construction.

As a bonafide Friend of the Animals, Heather was pretty great with her human friends, too. And she wanted her clinic to reflect that. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: So my game had ANOTHER baby boom but now I think I'm maxed and need some elders to expire before more nooboos will generate randomly. That said, in addition to Emi and her husband (Layne Wise originally known as Leoric Weild), Everett & Spencer, and Lydia & Alexander, River and Cassandra are expecting again, too! That's two more grandkids for Bella!

I checked on the Gen 1 Nesbitt household, where River and Cassandra live with Neal, Daisy, and their son Michael (plus dog Bernadette and cat Duchess) and pregnant Cass got on an autonomous video call with her mom. 🥰

NOTE 2: It's been on my list to get Heather and Spencer back to Selvadorada for almost a decade (in game!). I'm trying to complete the Jungle Explorer aspiration with Spencer, but there really has not been a good time as they both have small kids or keep getting pregnant. The aspiration isn't a requirement for this generation and more a bonus goal for me, but I really want to do it so stay tuned!

Heather's had Adventurous as a bonus trait since they went on their first trip together, and ever since then she's just been able to use it for wild woohoo and being eager and excited about the Ambrosia Society's challenge, whereas Conrad was a lot more cautious (about the latter - the wild woohoo doesn't trouble him at all!)

NOTE 3: As always, I thank @rinseesims for adding the iconic Leoric Weild from her iconic UDC to the Sims 4 gallery because he makes a great dad/architect in this universe!

[crystallizsch]

something funny that happened today despite whatever the hell is happening here in the U.S.

so one of my uni's dining halls is a buffet and they typically serve whatever.

and the other day, i posted about wanting to try eating eel for the first time because i haven't had any yet.

usually they have their menu up online for the day but i didn't really care what they were serving, i just wanted dinner.

imagine my surprise when i saw they were serving UNAGI SUSHI ROLLS.

i mean i was just excited to just try it because i do love seafood (and sushi) and this was a great opportunity to finally try eel for the first time.

then a friend reminded me "isn't it jade's bday today".

and i fucking-

+ added bonus they were also serving filipino pancit (noodles) i'm gonna SCREAM.

of course i helped myself to both dishes ugh. they rarely serve filipino dishes so i had to.

anyways happy birthday jade + happy unintentional yuushade day too or something idk bye

[rainyrambles-overcod]

Post from the last blog that reminds me that I still have yet to see many (if any..) things like it:

I’ve seen so many posts about how like, the 141 guys’ job is always a risk and can always take them away in an instant, which is true, I get it I get it. It’s the military. Any op could be their last. I get it. Love it.

BUT what about a reader who’s also at a job with risk? Firefighter, diver, paramedic, another military job, some kind of daredevil occupation/hobby? Things that easily threaten to take READER away? Flip the switch on these guys, cmon! Just imagine the role reversal there could be! The angst!

the guys being the ones to beg a partner to be careful, pleading with them to just retire and stay alive with them? After their own retirement, of course, or in another au entirely where they have the safer job. Especially Ghost or Price, I could see some real angst potential. They just got a family, just found the one person they could never think to live without, they don’t want to lose that! Let the guys be the ones dead terrified for reader, for a change!

I REALLY just want a badass reader, y’all, I’m sorry but also not at all sorry

Bonus edit: This post gave me my favourite version of reader so far, which is indeed wildlife rescue!reader 🥰🥰🥰

[inthehouseoffinwe]

A Meeting in Valinor

Elrond comes back from his first real meeting with Eärendil tired and unsure what to do. He gets some help from an unexpected source.

Dw this isn’t hating on any of Elrond’s parents. Pure fluff :)

Elrond had returned to his house and was lying with his head in Celebrian’s lap. He’d told her how the meeting had gone and flopped on the sofa, drained, before she’d soothed away some of his oncoming headache as she’d done many years before. Now he lay with his eyes closed, soaking in the summer rays as she read.

Celebrian jerked suddenly, and Elrond shot up, hand going to the knife in his boot. Some habits wouldn’t change.

“Ai! relax! It’s just me!”

Elrond’s face slackened.

“It cannot be...”

Celebrian looked between the two, eyes lingering on the semi-familiar features before her. Round ears. Beard. Warm grey eyes, wise yet playful. Elven cut, navy tunic with silver embroidery, and brown hair brushing his shoulders. She tensed at the closed expression on Elrond’s face, reaching for her own dagger as the figure shuffled nervously.

“Hello, Ada.”

Elrond released a strangled sound and the man ran to his open arms, desperately clutching the elf. Elrond pulled back, hand smoothing down unruly hair as if he’d done so many times before.

“Estel, how- You’re *dead.*”

Celebrian relaxed at the name, a gentle smile lighting her face as the human spluttered between tears. So this was her lost son.

Aragorn smiled tremulously as he replied.

“Exactly as you used to say Ada, Illuvatar’s mind is unknown in regards to the fate of men, and I guess I was allowed to come here.”

Elrond hugged him again.

“How’s Arwen?”

“She’s doing well, recently became good friends with Andreth.” A strange look came over Aragorn’s face and his foster father laughed, kissing his forehead. He turned to his wife, and it was then that Aragorn froze, seeing the elleth before him. He shot to his feet, bowing low before her.

“Milady, I-“

Celebrian shot the half-elf an exasperated look and grabbed one of the man’s hands, pulling him up. Aragorn looked at her, confused.

“Mil-“

“Call me ‘Milady’ again and I’ll toss you out the front door. Elrond said you used to call me Naneth.” Aragorn flushed, eyes on his boots and Celebrian laughed. “I take no insult, son of Elrond! It is only right considering you were not only adopted into the family, but also married my daughter.”

The Dunedan gaped, and she pulled him onto the sofa between herself and her husband, voice softening at the sorrow in Aragorn’s eyes.

“There is no need to feel guilty Estel, I long foresaw Arwen’s choice and understand she was loved and taken care of by the best of men.” She pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you for giving her happiness. She was so sad after the orcs, I feared she’d never smile again.”

Aragorn froze for a moment, then buried his head into her shoulder, apologies spilling out his mouth. Celebrian rested a hand on his head.

“None of that now, I’m glad Arwen was able to find her strength again, even if it led her down a different path.” She pulled back and squeezed his shoulders. “And I’m glad to meet *you.*”

Aragorn bowed his head then settled back against the sofa. A comfortable silence filled the space until Elrond spoke.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you, ion-nin, but why are you here?”

Aragorn turned to face the half elf, a mischievous glint in his eyes as Elrond raised an eyebrow.

“Well this should be interesting.”

“I had some... unfinished business to attend to.”

“Is that so?”

Aragorn sat on a chair in front of the elves, and both of them straightened. He winced at the expectant look on his foster father’s face, reminded of every scrap he’d been pulled out of in Rivendell, then later as a ranger.

“It may have had something to do with your earlier conversation.” The look didn’t change and he sighed in defeat. “Ok fine. It had everything to do with it. I had a conversation with Earendil. Interesting man. Surprisingly relaxed.”

Elrond smiled tiredly and Celebrian took his hand.

“Interesting indeed. He… wasn’t what I expected.”

Aragorn’s laugh echoed, loud and warm and *human* in a way Celebrian knew her husband missed dearly. So many of Elrond’s friends had been mortal, so much of his family.

“Now that’s an understatement!” The man smiled wide. “In any case, I had a quick conversation with him after you left. He says he’d love to take you sailing and have a proper heart to heart.” The smile dropped to something more somber, more gentle. “He also says he understands if you need more time, and will wait as long as he needs.”

Elrond seemed to simultaneously age and relax.

“If you’d take my advice…” Aragorn began hesitantly, waiting for Elrond’s warm nod before continuing, “I think you should take him up on the offer.“

Elrond gave real thought to the words and Celebrian wondered just how well this man judged characters that Elrond was willing to take another chance. Any elf would have been shut down by now. Had been in the past.

“I do not know if I can.”

A familiar stubborn glint entered Aragorn’s eye. A fearlessness Celebrian was delighted to see.

“I say this with respect Adar, but you have to stop running away from this.”

The half-elf startled at the sharp words, but Aragorn continued before he could fully recover. Smart kid.

“For your own sake, you must face him. Just as you must one day face Elwing, Maedhros and Maglor… but this is a good place to start.” He leaned forward to take his father’s tightly clenched hands. “What did you tell me when my heritage was revealed? When I was terrified the weight of my past might drown away my present?”

A suspicion began to form in Celebrian’s mind, threatening to break out in a bright laugh and smothering hug for the son she’d never met. Of course. Of course.

Elrond closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wryness and pride in his eyes when he looked up at Aragorn.

“The past is but a small part of you. You are so much more your history, no matter what anyone else says.”

“Wise advice, no?”

“Seems a little narcissistic to agree, but I suppose it is.”

Squeezing Aragorn’s hands back, Elrond sighed and slumped back, eyes closing for a long moment. Aragorn glanced at Celebrian, who returned a small, reassuring smile. It was about time someone smacked some sense into her husband’s head, and this one knew how to push all the right buttons.

“I am afraid, little one.” Elrond finally whispered.

Aragorn grinned boyishly, and Celebrian’s suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s why I’m here.”

[radfemsiren]

The parodox of eating disorders and both escaping and conforming to womanhood:

Studying eating disorders in women and girls is so fascinating to me because there is a paradox. Eating disorder (and other self harm) communities are dominated by women, and there are 2 different distinct sides with opposite goals.

On one side you have the wanting to feminize yourself. You have “I want to be tiny. I want to be petite. I want to be picked up easily.” They have the Victoria’s Secret model worship. They have the “I need to wear outfits, but I can’t wear them because I don’t have the body for that yet.” The “I want be fragile. Pretty and loved.” The tinyspo, fawn-like, coquette, dainty type of anorexia and bulimia. This want to be anemic and pale and frail and delicate. This was very popular mainstream pro stuff for a long time.

But now, on the other hand, you have another side of it, which is the wanting to defeminize yourself. It’s more brutal and honest. The relinquishing of womanhood and the seeking to be less obvious of a woman. “I want my breasts to go away. I want my ass to go away. I want to look sick. I want to be weak. I want people to feel bad for me. I want people to worry about me. I want to look sick in the way of how I feel inside. I don’t want to be sexualized. I want men to ignore me.” Bonespo, deathspo, wanting to not look like a girl, not look alive even. It reminds me very much of this drawing: “Just take them and leave me alone,” by Raoof Haghighi

It’s this asking to finally be free of the female markers. I want my period to go away, I want my teeth to rot, my arms and legs to grow hair, I want to be repulsive and look the way I feel. I want to be ignored as a sexual object, and I want a different kind of attention finally: see me disappearing and worry about me like a human.

And if you look at edtwt and other pro ana spaces, you will see a very large portion of these girls fall into either one of these two sentiments, often simultaneously. This is what’s so fascinating to me about this. Is that the disorder and the starvation does the same thing to your body. There are no 2 sides really. It both takes away your breasts, but it also makes you small and petite. You look sickly and lose your teeth and grow hair and feel tired and cold and lose your period, but you are also fitting into the outfits like the models and mannequins do and meeting the beauty standard.

The paradox of relinquishing the markers of womanhood while adhering to the standards of femininity! How strange! How unwoman it has become to be feminine!

[castillon02]

Wade was on the couch, shoveling frito pie into his facehole, when Spidey crawled through the window, paused, cocked his head, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 

Not Spidey’s usual M.O. 

Then Spidey made a lip-zipping motion at him and dropped from the wall to the floor. His shoulders and calves had tightened, and his movements jerked instead of slinked, his body ready to spring into motion. 

Hot. Mildly alarming, but hot. Spidey had sensed something.    

Wade moved over to the front door to secure their exit. Katanas: check. Guns: check. Frito pie: check. He kept eating. 

Spider-Man did a slow three-sixty, peering around the room, and froze with his eyes narrowed in the direction of Wade’s newest purchase: a Deadpool-themed boombox that Wade had found on Etsy. It had arrived just that morning. 

Wade was going to leave such a negative review if it turned out that his boombox was actually a bomb. Not one star—it had a tape deck, a CD player, and an AUX hook-up, and Wade was all about that retro shit—but definitely negative. Maybe two stars; who couldn’t appreciate the pun of a boombox that went boom? 

Spidey advanced on the boombox and ran his fingers over its surface like a snob testing the furniture for dust. Attached to his fingertip on the upswing lay a red square about the thinness of a gum wrapper and the breadth and height of a motherfucking electronic bug. 

“Christ on a pogostick dildo,” Wade muttered, setting his frito pie on the Javelin anti-tank missile launcher that had been delivered along with the boombox. 

He’d used his last bug detector as a bludgeon, and he kept going out to get a new one only to be distracted by one of the Big Apple’s tempting offerings: people to shoot, Spideys to please, tacos to eat, Spideys to please… Actually, maybe it was kind of appropriate that Spidey was the one helping him out here, given that he’d been so distracting. 

And given that… 

Heh. 

His name was Spider-Man. 

And he’d found a—

Found a b—

Wade made desperate crab pinching motions at Spidey. 

Spidey interpreted his hand signals like a boss and crushed the bug into itsy bits between his freakishly strong spider-digits. 

Wade squealed. “Holy exterminator, Spider-Man! You caught an actual-fact bug in your not-so-actual-fact web! Fly swatter, more like spy swatter!” 

“See, this is why I don’t tell people.” Spidey scratched at the back of his neck. 

Wade put his hand to his chest and batted his eyes even though only the bottom half of his face was visible. “Awww, and you told little old me?” It always made Wade’s heart grow three sizes when Spidey showed him one of his spidery secrets.  

Spidey shrugged. “I figured you’d want your ‘Workin’ 9 to 5’ serenades to be private.” 

Wade settled one hand on his cocked hip and put on a country accent. “I ain’t never got no shame over Ms. Parton, Websy.” 

“I was also trying to avoid mentioning the Nickelback.” Spidey gestured at the CD organizer next to the boombox, which was open to Now That’s What I Call Music! Volume 10. 

Now That’s What I Call Music! Volume 10 had Nickelback’s “How You Remind Me” on it, and after the Britney Spears and JLo songs, Wade had definitely planned on belting out the “I SAID I LOVE YOU AND I SWEAR I STILL DO” and “SCREAM ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?” lines extremely loudly and emotionally, possibly before shooting himself. Not his ideal recording to have in the hands of his enemies. 

“Your sacrifice is appreciated, Spidey.”  

Spidey gave a sloppy salute. 

Wade narrowed his eyes. “Hang on. How do you know which songs are on that CD?” 

“Oh wow, some frito pie! And what’s that? I think my spider senses are tingling…” As he darted towards the window, Spidey webbed Wade’s bowl from the missile launcher to his hand. 

Wade wouldn’t be fast enough to catch him; instead, he lunged for the boombox and frantically inserted the CD. “Don’t think I don’t know what your 2002 jam is!” He mashed the skip button.  

Spidey hovered near the window, about to be hoisted by his own curiosity. “No way,” he said. “There’s twenty songs on that CD. No way you guess right.” 

“Oh, yeah? Well, listen TO THIS!” Wade stopped the disc on song 15. 

A piano melody started to play. 

“Oh my god,” Spidey said. He dropped the bowl onto the counter and his face into his hand.   

“Makin’ my way downtown, walkin’ fast, faces pass, and I’m homebound!” Wade sang along with Vanessa Carlton. He pointed at Spidey and walked over. “Starin’ blankly ahead, blankly ahead, making my way through the crowd…Take it, Spidey! Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—”  

“And I need you!” Spidey stifled a laugh. 

“Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—” Wade shoved the frito pie spoon, microphone-like, into Spidey’s hand. 

“And I miss you!” Spidey sang into the spoon. 

“Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh— chorus time, go!” 

Spidey leaned into the spoon. “AND NOW I WONNNDER…IF I COULD FALL…INTO THE SKY…” He tilted the spoon at Wade. 

“DO YOU THINK TIME…WOULD PASS ME BY…” 

They sang the rest together: “CAUSE YOU KNOW I’D WALK A THOUSAND MILES IF I COULD JUST SEE YOU…TONIGHT.” 

“Hey,” Wade said after their duet ended. The dulcet sounds of Celine Dion (song number 16) faded into the background, helped by his hand on the volume knob. “Could you check my bedroom for bugs, too?” 

Spidey sighed. “For electronic surveillance, Pool. Don’t get any ideas.” 

Wade crossed his heart (and his fingers behind his back). 

“But,” Spidey said, “even if the rest of the place is clean, maybe we should check the Switch for bugs too. You know. With the very advanced spider technique of playing it.” Spidey fidgeted. 

“Going once, going twice, SOLD, to the Deadpool with the color-coordinated boombox!” Wade mimed banging a gavel. 

Pretty good for a day in which Wade had been considering shooting himself to a Nickelback soundtrack. And Spidey ate all his frito pie, so he didn’t even have to deal with any gross leftovers! 

The next day, Wade did some investigating and posted his Etsy review: This seller attached an electronic monitoring device to the product, BUT someone threatened their family to get them to do it, so, what can you do, ammirite? Took out that trash for you btw, np. The CD player, tape deck, and AUX all work great, the speakers are nice and loud, and the design is chef-kiss. 5 stars for immaculate engineering, 0 stars for being unwilling to sacrifice the lives of your friends and loved ones for a faceless customer with a poop emoji in their username, 5 stars again for being bribed into letting me be a repeat client despite all the bloodstains. Looking forward to the Spider-Man-themed iPod with webby wired earbuds!  

Author's note: for those who don't know what frito pie is, it's basically corn chips with ground beef and cheese (and assorted miscellaneous) on top, kind of like nachos. Regardless of its status as a family dish, it is an absolutely bachelor kind of meal.

[seecarrun]

Pokeshipping Week 2024

Prompt 7: Celebrating

Ash was avoiding her.

He had been the one to invite her. Hell, he had paid for her plane ticket! And yet here Misty was, all dressed up, sitting by her lonesome, no Ash or Pikachu in sight.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t alone, alone. Ash’s old local friends from the Pokemon School were all there as well, milling around, dancing, snacking on hors d'oeuvres and sipping on champagne. Lana had insisted she join them at their table, and she had even danced with Kiawe and Mallow for a while after dinner.

The professors and Lei were also there, it had been Lei’s first Manalo Conference appearance, and even though he lost in the first round of the single battles, his parents were so proud, they had been showing him off to everyone all night, much to the kid’s embarrassment.

But yet no Champion in sight.

She knew he was there. She’d seen him bee-bopping around the banquet hall throughout the night, just not anywhere near her, apparently.

She didn’t think he was upset at her or anything. He’d grinned and waved at her after his battle with Hau, who had won the League this year. Their battle had been close, but Ash managed to win it and keep his title for the tenth year in a row. A decade of being the Alola Champion. The whole reason this party was happening at all.

He had been rushed off to talk with the press, so she went back to her hotel to get ready, naively assuming Ash had any interest in spending some time with her during the celebration after insisting she be there.

She was just polishing off her third flute of champagne when a yellow flash out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She perked up for a moment and scanned the room to try to catch it again, when a soft, familiar whisper filled her ear.

“Meet me outside in five?” Ash asked, sending an embarrassing little shiver up her spine, but by the time she spun around to face him, he had made his way back into the crowd.

~*~

Ash’s back was to her as he casually leaned against the balcony railing, backdropped by the twinkling, tropical, Alola night sky, Pikachu mysteriously missing. Someone had apparently convinced him to put on some nice clothes and forced a comb through his messy hair earlier in the evening, but he had managed to scruff himself back up since then, probably doing something stupid and noble and Ash-like.

He was beautiful.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he told her without turning around.

Misty raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

He turned around finally at that and gave her a crooked little smile. “I’m glad you’re here, Mist.”

Her heart did that stupid thing it always did when he called her that damn nickname, but she joined him at the railing and looked out into the ocean. “You gave me no choice, Ash,” she reminded him. He chuckled at that, but it sounded hollow. “You okay?” she asked. He shrugged.

“Yeah. I mean, I think so. It’s just been a weird day.” He sighed. “I thought this was going to be it,” he admitted, quietly.

Misty blinked in surprise. “It? What do you mean? Like, your last year as Champion?”

Ash nodded, a wry smile on his lips. “Hau did amazing, but Gladion almost had me last year. If he wasn’t challenging the Hoenn League right now, I think he would have taken me out once and for all.”

She studied his profile, looking for a sign in his expression to figure out how he felt about that, but he was intentionally, very carefully neutral.

At her silence, he sighed heavily again. “I love Alola. You know I do. This place is my home away from home. But it’s, you know, still not home like Kanto is home.” He paused for a moment, and ran his hand through his hair before turning to face her again and smirking. “I know Lance is planning to separate the Kanto and Johto Leagues, finally. There will be a whole new batch of Elite 4 positions opening up, and from what I’ve heard, you’re on the short list for one of them.”

“How did you hear about that?” Misty balked. “Lance said that information hasn’t left the Indigo League yet!”

“I have my ways,” Ash said with a grin, and Misty rolled her eyes. Lance was such a blabbermouth. “Lance is going to stick with Johto. You’ll need a new Kanto Champion, too.”

Misty perked up at that, realizing what Ash was getting at with a traitorous little flicker of hope in her stomach. “You want to compete to be the Kanto Champion?”

Ash shrugged a little shyly. “I mean, that had kinda been the idea. I’m not sure I have it in me to be Champion of both Kanto and Alola though. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Ash, you’re twenty-two,” Misty reminded him with a snort.

“Exactly! ” he laughed, but his expression quickly turned just a bit somber. “I guess I was just ready to, you know, have an excuse to spend more time at home… Around my favorite people.”

It was hard to tell in the dark, but she was pretty sure he was blushing. She tried not to think too much about that. “Favorite people, huh?” she prompted, bumping into his shoulder.

He smirked. “Yeah. My mom, Brock Tracy… Gary.” He drawled, and she bit back her smile to glare at him, unimpressed, until he finally cracked with a long, loud laugh. “And you, of course!”

“That’s what I thought,” she said haughtily, and after a beat, they both broke into giddy laughter. Once they finally settled down, Misty sighed, and summoning up her courage, she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder, feeling him tense up at the motion. She forced herself not to think too much about that, either. “It’ll take Lance a while to get everything sorted out, you know. It might not be until next year.”

She felt him hum in acknowledgment more than she heard it, her heart speeding up as she felt his arm drape around her shoulders, and his head gently falling into a rest against her’s.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I’ve already waited this long. What’s one more year?”

[littlyamadeus]

Note: I forgotten to post this on the day saga came but better late than never ig.

So besides Agatha All Along's AMAZING finale, I have another thing to talk about today.

EPIC THE MUSICAL: VENGANCE SAGA

I'll start from what I didn't like as much to my favorite times.

I'm gonna be honest, please don’t come after me for this but- I feel like "Not Sorry for Loving You" was not the best, even unnecessary.

Because no matter what kind of tragic story you have, you captured a man for 7 FUCKING YEARS with the claim of "Loving him". I am not even talking about SA issues akthough they may be not cannon in EPIC universe. Regardless, what Calypso did was pure torture and she does not deserve any sympathy. Especially as someone who loved someone dearly in the past, I know I'd not give the 1 percent of kindness Ody gave to Calypso in the song.

Now that I vent about that one we con go to good part.

HERMESSSSSSSS OUR ICON CAME BACK! Gosh for real Troy proved once again how he is the PERFECT Hermes. I love his voice, love his energy. Dangerous is definitely one of my favorites from this saga.

"Don't thank me my friend/ I am not the one who fight for you" I need Athena ASAP, cryin and sobbin and chokin.

Charybidis, the music was amazing and EPIC becoming even more of a game like musical which as a gamer I am here for it!!!!

GET IN THE WATER'S INTRO IS ONE OF THE BEST THINGS I HEARD. It is so short yet it immediately puts you in that Final Boss mood. I can listen that part over and over again. That dramatic piano, GOSH-

Steven Rodriguez, he is too good. Like how, the moment I hear his voice I tense in the best way possible. I mean okay I'll get in the water for you🤭 (Said the lesbian). Also when he said "I can't", I once felt the obligations and pressure that Greek Gods are always under. Like he said, he got a reputation and reputation is everything if you don't want people to question your sacredness.

Which thinking about it, it also remind me the time when Hades couldn't immediately release Eurydive because he'd become a "Spineless king".

Six Hundred Strike.... All I can say is "Next to my wife."

[badathumanemotions]

hiii! ur fic "greedy" was incredible omg, could u write some elle x reader smut where she just takes care of you and is very soft with you please? thank you!! 🙏🙏

Tender Love and Care

Elle Greenaway x Fem Reader MDNI Masterlist Category: Fluffy Smut CW: Smut, Massage, Oral Sex (R rec), Fingering, Bathtub Sex, TLC. WC: 4,971 I figure Americans sorely needed this considering the week you're having. (Not Proof Read)

"You look tired," she says, her voice gentle, breaking the silence of the living room.

Elle's eyes bore into yours, her gaze assessing as she takes in the dark circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders. It's not a surprise; the week has been unrelenting, a merciless grind of paperwork and dead-end leads that have left you feeling drained and defeated. You nod, a weary smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Just a bit," you admit, trying to keep the exhaustion from seeping into your voice.

The tension has been palpable at the office, the kind that lingers in the air after a particularly gruelling case has wrapped up and everyone's trying to catch their breath before the next storm hits. Your mind has been racing with the ghosts of the unsolved cases, keeping you up at night as you replay scenarios, searching for the threads you might have missed. And then there was the close call on the way home two nights ago, when some idiot in a pickup truck swerved into your lane almost hitting you head on, forcing you to slam on the brakes and swerve onto the shoulder. Your heart had pounded in your chest for hours after, another reminder of your own mortality.

But tonight, as you sit on the couch of your shared apartment, a warm cup of tea in your hands, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. It's Elle, her eyes filled with concern and care. She knows you've been going through hell and back, and she's been there for you every step of the way. You lean into her touch, feeling the warmth of her fingers seep through your shirt and into your skin, offering a bit of comfort that you desperately need.

"Why don't you let me take care of you tonight?" she suggests softly.

You look up at her, surprised by the offer but also incredibly grateful. You've been so caught up in your own head that you haven't realized how much you've been craving this, someone to take the reins and just make everything okay, if only for a little while. You nod slowly, the weight of the week finally lifting from your shoulders.

Elle leads you to the bedroom, where the scent of vanilla fills the air. She's lit a few candles, casting a warm glow over the space and setting the scene for relaxation. The soft flicker of their flames dances on the walls, creating a serene ambience that immediately starts to soothe your frazzled nerves. You can feel the tension begin to melt away just at the sight of her preparations.

You follow her instructions to undress, peeling off your clothes and climbing onto the bed, laying face down on the soft towels she put down. Elle's hands, strong yet tender, glide over your back, her fingertips tracing the taut muscles that have been coiled like tight springs for what feels like an eternity. She starts with your neck, kneading away the knots that have formed from countless hours staring at a computer screen, then works her way down to your shoulders, applying just the right amount of pressure to release the tension.

With each stroke, her touch becomes more deliberate, more focused. You can feel her working the stress from your body, her oils leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Her thumbs dig into your back, pressing firmly against the base of your spine, sending waves of relief rippling through your muscles. The pressure is just shy of painful, but oh so satisfying as it loosens the tension you didn't even know was there. Her hands move in a way that's as comforting as a lullaby, guiding your breath to deepen and slow, your heart to beat to follow.

Elle's fingers glide along your sides, tracing the indent of your ribs before sliding over your hips and down the length of your legs. She massages your calves, the pressure increasing as she reaches your feet, working out the knots from days of chasing after monsters in uncomfortable shoes. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the tightness in your body unwind with every pass of her hands.

Once she finishes with your back, she has you turn around so she can continue working on you. You comply, rolling onto your back, the soft pillows cradling your head. Your eyes follow her as she moves around the bed, her graceful form silhouetted by the candlelight. She looks at you with a gentle smile. You can't help but feel a flicker of anticipation, wondering what she has planned next.

She uses a firm yet gentle touch, working out the kinks from the tension that has built up in your body. You can feel her thumbs pressing into your muscles, applying just the right amount of pressure to coax them into relaxation. She works her way down to your shoulders, kneading and rubbing in slow, rhythmic motions that make you want to purr like a cat. You're so relaxed that you barely feel the transition when she moves on to your chest, her palms gliding over your breasts in a way that feels more soothing than sensual.

Her fingers trace the lines of your abdomen, exploring the contours of your body with a gentle curiosity that is both comforting and a little thrilling. She doesn't linger anywhere that makes you feel uncomfortable, but her touch is enough to make you aware of every inch of your skin. She continues her massage, her hands moving in smooth strokes down the length of your arms, taking her time to massage each finger and palm. Then she returns to your legs, starting at your hips and moving down to your knees, which she gently presses into, releasing the tension that's been building there.

Elle's touch is firm but loving, and you can feel yourself becoming more and more pliant under her skilled hands. It's as if you're made of warm wax, and she's sculpting you into something beautiful. Her thumbs press into the arches of your feet, and you can't help but let out a small moan of pleasure. You're practically a puddle, your body softening and giving in to her ministrations. It's been so long since someone has taken care of you like this, and you realize just how much you've needed it.

As she makes her way back up your body, you feel her breath, warm and sweet, graze one of your nipples. It's a soft caress that sends a shiver down your spine and causes your nipples to harden into tight peaks. You can't believe how responsive your body is to her, how easily she can elicit such a reaction from you.

Elle notices, her eyes flickering down to your chest before returning to your face, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She doesn't say anything, but the look in her eyes tells you that she's pleased with what she's seeing. You feel a blush creep up your neck, your heart fluttering at the intimacy of the moment. You're not used to being so vulnerable, so open, but with Elle, it feels natural.

Her fingertips skim over your thighs, causing your breath to hitch. The sensation is electrifying, sending desire straight to your core. You're acutely aware of how close she is to the apex of your thighs, and the anticipation is almost unbearable.

Elle's eyes meet yours, a silent question in her gaze. You nod almost imperceptibly, giving her the green light to continue. She starts to massage your thighs in earnest, her thumbs moving closer and closer to the juncture of your legs. You can feel the dampness between your thighs, a testament to the effect she has on you. The gentle strokes of her thumbs against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs is driving you wild.

The tension in the room shifts, charged with a sexual energy that you can't ignore. Your breathing grows shallower as her hands inch closer and closer to your centre, teasing and tormenting you. The anticipation is like a live wire, humming just beneath your skin, making you squirm and arch your back.

Her thumbs finally graze the sensitive skin just beside your pussy, and you let out a gasp that's half relief, half need. The wetness between your thighs is unmistakable now, a plea for more. You bite your lip, trying to contain the desire that's building within you, but it's a futile effort.

Without a word, Elle slides her hand between your legs, her fingers brushing lightly against your folds. The touch is feather-light at first, teasing you, making you crave more. You spread your legs wider, giving her better access, silently begging for her to touch you where you need it most.

Her fingers trace the outline of your pussy before dipping in, coating themselves in your wetness. She continues her exploration, her touch growing bolder with every stroke. She finds your clit, circling it with the pad of her thumb, applying just enough pressure to make you moan.

Then, she surprises you, her index finger slipping inside you, moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You can feel yourself getting wetter with every movement, your body begging for more of her touch. Your breath hitches as she adds another finger, stretching you gently, filling you up.

Elle's eyes never leave yours, watching your reactions with an intensity that makes you feel like the only person in the world. She starts to pump her fingers in and out, her movements becoming more insistent as she searches for that perfect spot that will make you unravel. You can feel the pressure building, your muscles tightening around her digits as you get closer to the edge.

And then she does it – she touches you with her mouth. Her tongue darts out, a warm, wet caress that sends shockwaves through your body. She licks along your slit, tasting you, savouring you. You arch your back, your hands fisting in the sheets as the sensation sends you spiralling. The gentle prodding of her tongue against your clit is exquisite torture, and you find yourself desperately seeking more.

Elle seems to read your mind, her mouth pressing more firmly against you. She laps at your pussy with long, slow strokes, her tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against your clit again. Your hips rock in response, seeking more of the pleasure she's offering so freely. Her fingers continue their dance, curling and unfurling inside you.

"You're so beautiful," she murmurs, the vibrations from her voice adding another layer of sensation. "So strong, so brave. You're amazing." You've never felt more cherished than you do right now, laid bare under her loving touch and tender praise. Your body responds to her words, your muscles tightening around her fingers as your orgasm builds.

Her rhythm picks up, her tongue moving faster, more insistent against your swollen bud. She whispers sweet nothings into the air, her breath teasing your damp skin. "You deserve this, baby," she says, her voice a low purr that sends shivers down your spine. "You work so hard. Let me make you feel good."

Your body responds to her words, your hips moving in time with her ministrations. You can feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that starts in your toes and works its way up your body, tightening every muscle until you're sure you can't take any more. "Elle," you gasp, your voice a shaky plea for more.

"That's it," she whispers, her voice low and encouraging. "Let it happen, baby." Her praise is a sweet symphony, each word a caress that pushes you closer to the precipice. "You're so beautiful, so perfect. I love watching you come apart for me."

Your orgasm is a crescendo that's been building since she first laid her hands on you. It starts as a slow burn in your core, a delicious heat that spreads outward, coating your skin in a fine sheen of sweat. Her fingers are a masterful maestro conducting an orchestra of sensation, and your body is the instrument, playing a symphony of need.

"Good girl," she whispers against your thigh, her voice a soft benediction. The words send a jolt of arousal through you, making you feel cherished and desired. "You're doing so well," she says, her breath hot and sweet against your skin.

Her other hand moves to your pelvis, her hand lightly pressing into the spot just above your mound, the other side of which your g-spot is nestled. You gasp as she does this, the sensation unexpected and incredibly intense. The way her fingers inside you and her hand outside come together feels like a perfect storm of pleasure, each movement of her fingers sends bolts of lightening through you.

Your hips are jumping, your body convulsing in response to the waves of sensation crashing over you. You're moaning, the sound a mix of pleasure and surprise. It's a new level of intensity, a height you didn't know was possible. You can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter, like a spring about to snap.

And then it happens. You squirt. The sensation is like nothing you've ever felt before, a sudden gush of wetness that soaks the sheets beneath you. You cry out, your eyes flying open as your body arches off the bed. It's like a dam has broken, releasing a flood of pleasure so intense it's almost painful. Elle doesn't miss a beat, her fingers still moving inside you, her tongue still flicking against your clit. She seems to revel in your reaction, her eyes shining with pride.

The orgasm goes on and on, wave after wave of pleasure that has your entire body trembling. It's as if you're being electrified, every nerve ending alight with sensation. You're lost in it, unable to do anything but feel. The room seems to spin around you, the candlelight blurring into a haze of gold and shadow.

Elle's eyes are dark with desire, her own arousal evident as she continues to play your body like a fine instrument. She's relentless, her fingers still moving inside you, her tongue still pressing against your clit. You can feel the aftershocks of your climax, smaller waves that keep crashing into you, extending your pleasure beyond what you thought was possible.

But then, as if she knows just when to pull back to keep from overstimulating you, she slows her pace. Her touch becomes feather-light, her kisses gentle and soothing. You're a trembling mess, your body still thrumming with the aftermath of your orgasms. She doesn't push you further, instead letting you ride out the waves of pleasure on your own. Her movements are calming, grounding, bringing you back down to earth without jolting you.

While still hazy, you register Elle moving around in the bathroom. The sound of running water filters into your consciousness, and you feel the bed dip as she returns. Elle shifts on the bed, moving to hold you. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you into the warmth of her embrace. Your cheek finds its way to her chest, your eyes fluttering closed as you listen to the steady thump of her heart. You feel her breath against the top of your head, her fingers stoking up and down you arm in a soothing motion.

"You were amazing," she whispers. "It's so beautiful watching you let go like that." Her words are a gentle caress, as warm and comforting as her touch. You can't help but smile into her chest, feeling a swell of affection for her. You've never had someone praise you like this before, especially not in the throes of passion. It feels incredible, like she's not just seeing you, but truly understanding the depths of what you need.

Elle shifts again, and you realize she's standing up, the bed shifting with the movement. "C'mon," she says, her voice still soft and low. "The tub's running. Let's get you cleaned up."

You stand on wobbly legs, your knees feeling like jelly after the intense release. She takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, the candles flickering shadows on the walls. The tub is indeed almost full, the water steaming and scented with lavender. The room is a haven of tranquility, the perfect antidote to the chaos of the week that's been weighing on you.

Elle turns the water off and helps you in. You sink into the warm embrace of the water, a sigh escaping your lips as it envelops your body. She's careful not to let you go until you're fully seated, making sure you're comfortable. You feel like you're being cradled by a warm cloud, the water supporting you, the scent of lavender soothing. She grabs a washcloth and begins to gently wash away the sweat and the day's grime.

With a soft smile, you grasp her hand, the warmth of your skin against hers a silent plea. Your eyes lock, and she seems to understand. The unspoken request hangs in the air between you, as potent as the scent of vanilla and lavender. Without a word, she nods, her own smile growing. She sets the washcloth aside and begins to undress, her movements deliberate and sensual.

You watch as she peels away her clothes, revealing the soft curves and lean muscles of her body, illuminated by the candlelight. There's something about the way she moves that's both graceful and powerful. As she steps into the tub, her skin glistens with the same soft light, making her look almost ethereal.

You guide her to sit between your legs, her back to your chest. Your legs part naturally to cradle her, and you can feel the warmth of her body as it presses against yours. The water laps at your skin as you both settle into the warm embrace of the tub. Your arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer so that your face is nestled against the back of her neck.

Elle's hands come to rest on top of yours, her fingers lacing through your own. She sighs contentedly, leaning back into your embrace. The warm water feels heavenly against your skin, soothing your aching muscles and washing away the grime of the week. The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the quiet sounds of the water and the occasional crackle from the candles.

With a gentle tug, you guide her to lean back further into the crook of your arms. You tighten your hold on her slightly, feeling her soft, wet skin against yours. She fits perfectly against you, as if you were made for moments like these. You place kisses on the back of her neck, soft and tender, feeling her shiver with delight. Her skin is salty from the sweat of your earlier encounter, but it's a taste that you crave.

Her breath catches in her throat as you let your hands glide up her body, sliding up to cup her breasts. They're firm and heavy in your palms, her nipples pebbling against your fingertips. Elle lets out a soft moan, arching her back to press into your touch. It's a sound that thrills you, urging you to be bolder.

Your thumbs graze over her nipples, lightly at first, teasing them until they're tight and sensitive. Then, you start to knead her breasts gently, rolling her nipples between your thumbs and forefingers. She squirms in your embrace, the sensation sending delicious ripples of pleasure through her body.

As your hands play with her breasts, you lean in to nibble at the soft skin of her neck, your teeth grazing the sensitive area just below her ear. She lets out a soft gasp, her head tilting to the side to give you better access. You take full advantage, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, feeling the pulse of her vein as it quickens with desire.

Your thumbs continue to circle her nipples, the water making your movements slick and smooth. Her breathing grows ragged, her body tensing as you continue to tease her. You can feel her pulse racing, her heart beating in time with the rhythm of your caress. With a soft moan, she leans back further into you, her head falling to the crook of your shoulder. It's an invitation that you eagerly accept, your mouth finding hers in a deep, searching kiss.

As your tongues dance together, one of your hands trails down her stomach, the soft curve of her belly leading you to the heat between her legs. You feel her clit, already swollen and begging for attention, and you give in to the desire to touch her there. Your fingertips glide over the slick flesh, tracing her slit before settling on her clit. She gasps into your mouth, her hips jerking in response.

You start to stroke her clit with a gentle, rhythmic pressure, her body arching back into yours with every movement of your hand. Her breathing matches the tempo of your strokes, her chest rising and falling with increasing urgency. The warm water of the tub splashes against your skin as her body moves in response to your touch.

Elle's moans become more pronounced as you continue to tease her, her hips rocking slightly in the water. You can feel the tension building in her body, the muscles in her thighs tightening as she gets closer to the edge. Your other hand returns to her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

"This night was supposed to be about you," she gasps, trying to form the words between breathless moans. You hush her with a passionate kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth, silencing her protests. You know she's right, but the need to give her pleasure is too strong to resist.

Your fingers tighten around her nipples, pinching and tugging them gently. She whimpers into your mouth, her back arching further as you roll and pull them in a rhythm that matches the strokes on her clit.

You break the kiss to whisper in her ear, "Let me take care of you too, baby," your breath hot and heavy against her neck. Her eyes are half-lidded with desire, her cheeks flushed. She nods, a silent plea for you to continue.

Your hand moves faster, your strokes growing more urgent as you feel her approaching climax. Her hips start to rock, grinding against your hand as she chases the building pressure. You can feel her body tighten, the muscles in her thighs flexing. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and you know she's close.

With a final, desperate push, you feel her body tense, and then she's coming, her orgasm washing over her in a tidal wave of pleasure. She cries out, her back arching sharply as she traps your hand between her thighs, your fingers still resting on her clit. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, her pussy pulsing with every spasm of ecstasy.

Elle's head falls back onto your shoulder, her body going limp as the climax subsides. Her breathing is still ragged, but it's slowing, her heartbeat gradually returning to normal. Your hand remains on her, your fingers still playing gently with her sensitive clit, drawing out the last tremors of her release.

But then, she has a full body shudder, so intense it's almost a spasm. It's a beautiful sight, her body quivering with the force of her pleasure. You know she's reached her limit, so you remove your hand, not wanting to overstimulate her.

Elle turns in your arms, her eyes still glazed with passion. She looks up at you with a soft smile, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving. "I love you," she whispers, her voice hoarse with desire. You kiss her forehead, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

You both sink into the water, letting the warmth of the tub envelop you like a comforting blanket. You reach for the washcloth, squeezing the excess water out before you begin to glide it over her skin. She watches you with a gentle expression, her eyes fluttering shut as you run the cloth across her collarbone, down to her breasts.

You move with leisurely strokes, taking your time to clean every inch of her body. Your movements are deliberate and tender, as if you're worshipping a goddess. The cloth glides over her belly, her hips, her thighs, leaving a trail of clean skin in its wake. She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you wash away the remnants of your passion.

When you've finished, she takes the cloth from you with a gentle smile. "Now it's your turn," she says, her voice low and sultry. You nod, a shiver of anticipation running through you as you stand, the water cascading down your body. She watches you, her eyes dark with desire, as you step out of the tub.

Elle takes your place, her body sliding through the water with a soft splash. You can't help but stare at her, the water lapping at her breasts. She's like a vision, her skin slick and glowing in the candlelight.

With a gentle push, she guides you to lean against her chest. The feeling of her soft breasts against your back is surprisingly comforting. The warmth of her body envelopes you, her arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

Elle starts to clean your shoulders with the washcloth, her movements tender and careful. She's thorough, making sure not to miss an inch of your skin. The warm water sluices over your skin, carrying away the soap and the tension of the week.

As she washes you, her eyes never leave yours, and you feel a deep connection building between you. Each stroke of the cloth feels like a declaration of love, a silent promise to always be there to take care of you, no matter what. Her touch is both firm and gentle, a perfect balance that speaks to her understanding of what you need.

Elle moves the cloth over your chest, her eyes lingering on your breasts before she shifts to your stomach. Her touch is feather-light, as if she's afraid to break the spell that's been woven around the two of you. You can feel the warmth of the water, the softness of her skin, the roughness of the cloth, each sensation heightened by the intimacy of the moment. She takes her time, her movements a show of her love and care for you.

Once she's satisfied that you're clean, she stands up, the water cascading down her body like a waterfall. You can't help but watch as she steps out of the tub, the candlelight playing across her curves. She grabs a towel and dries herself off with swift, efficient movements before turning to help you out. Her strong arms wrap around you, lifting you effortlessly.

Elle wraps you both in the plush warmth of the towel, the fabric absorbing the water from your skin. She takes her time, ensuring not a single drop is missed as she dries you off. The feeling of her soft, warm skin pressed against yours is heavenly.

Once you're both dry, she takes your hand and leads you back to the bedroom. The candles have burned lower, casting a warm, amber glow over the room. The scent of vanilla still lingers, a sweet, comforting aroma that wraps around you like a gentle embrace.

Elle grabs a bottle of lotion from the nightstand, the cap making a satisfying click as she opens it. She pours a generous amount into her palm, warming it between her hands before she brings it to your skin. Starting at your neck, she rubs the cream in slow, gentle circles, her touch soothing the last vestiges of tension from your muscles.

You watch as her hands glide over your shoulders, the lotion leaving a trail of slickness in its wake. The scent of vanilla fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of lavender from the tub. It's a comforting smell, one that makes you feel safe and cherished. Her fingers trace the line of your collarbone, moving down to your breasts with a feather-light touch. You gasp as she massages the tender flesh, the lotion making her hands glide effortlessly over your skin.

Her touch is soft and sensual, each stroke a gentle caress that sends sparks of pleasure through your body. She takes her time, making sure to cover every inch of you with the lotion, her eyes never leaving your skin. It's as if she's memorizing the way your body responds to her, committing it to memory.

As she works her way down your torso, her hands glide over your stomach and hips before moving to your thighs. She massages them, her thumbs pressing into the muscles, working out the kinks from a week of tension. You can feel yourself melting under her touch, the stress of the week fading away with each pass of her hands.

When she's finished, she takes the towels that have been lying on the bed and carefully removes them, revealing the crisp, cool sheets beneath. You watch as she tosses the towels aside before she takes your hand, leading you to the bed.

The two of you slide into the cool embrace of the sheets. She pulls you close, spooning you from behind, her breasts pressing gently into your back as she wraps her arms around you. Her legs intertwine with yours, creating a tangle of limbs that feels perfectly natural.

Elle's breath is warm against your ear as she whispers, "Get some rest, baby. You deserve it." With a yawn, you snuggle deeper into her embrace, feeling the last wisps of your bad week fade away.

[brutalitybunny]

warrior cats/spirit of justice au that i cannot stop thinking about

under the readmore is a bunch of screenshots of posts i made rambling about it + design notes + misc

dragonstorm is dragon(fly) and storm mostly because dhurke's real name is derived from druk, the bhutanese thunder dragon,... even when he's leader of defiantclan i don't think he'd be dragonstar because it's LAME!!!! he's not intending for defiantclan to be official. he was not sanctioned by starclan. its fine. his markings are pretty self explanatory..... it's really just his hair LOL maybe i could have pushed more of his jacket into the design but i was originally trying to keep it simple...

runningheart is bc datz's jp name is like "fleeing as fast as you can" and hes always RUNNING and Ok you get it. i already explained it. cheers to /beauzos for pointing out that -heart is very datz though! his scarf is just a ratty piece of fabric he likes. i don't know how it gets on him don't ask me. i don't know where the piercings came from don't ask me. despite having a bobbed tail, i think he's incredibly agile and graceful. compensation king! his markings mimic his gloves+boots and harness, and the scars on his shoulder mimic the defiant dragon's band he wears :3

sunsight is a kit they found...probably a kittypet who got lost and they were like ok well he's ours now ^_^. named him sunkit/paw because the marking on his back looks like the sun. when they return him to twolegsplace for his own safety, he's picked up and named apple... but when he eventually returns to clan life, he's given the name sunsight because dragonstorm hopes his perceptiveness will help bring justice to [khura'inclan]. and because it rhymes with spiritflight. LMFAO the sunback marking is kindddd of like his attorney's badge and the band around his wrist is You know what it is

spiritflight was a pain in the ass for no reason. he's long. he needs to be. he's like they turned a borzoi into a cat. like dragonstorm, his tail calls back to his long hair... the swirls on his body are mimicking his flowy flowy sash, and also, just a way of stylizing mackerel tabby swirls that i like :3 spiritflight was a name entirely made by /beauzos THANKYOUUU because..you know...spiritual freak..the flight brings to mind that he uses religion as a way to flee from the horrors of It All. to me. it seems graceful and elegant but with an underlying current of "let it go and move on"...

i don't have names for amara or ga'ran cats but rayfacat would be called lilypool (/beauzos) because its cute and i want it. it's cute. NEKLNDFG khura'inclan also doesnt have a name yet... they live IN khura'in so that can't be it. we'll figure something out. im obsessed w these cats. I love these cats.

this is all because of the anon that reminded me of dear fellow traveler, which i only know from a talljake amv i saw. it's all connected!!!!!

[celestiaras]

Ok so, suggestion for something you can write:

Ok so some time ago someone did a post about Noctyx reacting to you being a virgin, and then taking your virginity. How do you think the XSOLEIL boys would react and act during your first time? (My first time sucked so one can indulge a bit in how much better it could have been you know. I bet these boys would be so caring yet so freaky at the same time) I know you technically already did Ver but still-

Love you muah muah

ft. doppio dropscythe, meloco kyoran, hex haywire, kotoka torahime, ver vermillion (separate) x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ how xsoleil are when taking your virginity┊0.5k words

contains: smut!! dom xsoleil & sub reader┊loss of virginity, unprotected piv & straps-ons for the girls, written by a virgin

��� author's note: another short one, i hope to post something longer when my motivation comes back. my depression has kinda hit me again and zapping my energy for anything even though i wanna write sooooo badly (also real life is so busy right now smh)

doppio dropscythe is clumsy. it’s his first time and a bit too excited for his own good, so you’ll need to guide him and be vocal about any possible discomfort. he’ll be the roughest out of the bunch, not intentionally, it’s just in his nature. there will be quite a few bruises and hickeys scattered about your skin, but it’s worth it because, not only is he blessed below the belt and able to fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, but he’s also terrific at aftercare, and will carry you into the bathtub filled with warm water like a princess. he’ll handle you more carefully next time (unless you want him to be just as or even more rough).

meloco kyoran is nervous. it’s probably also her first time too, and her inexperience makes her hesitant because everything she knows was taught by the internet after running away from home. she's asking over and over again if it’s okay, needing assurance that she’s doing a good job and that this is really what you wanted— that you really wanted her. you’ll need to encourage her with your words, help her out by wiggling your hips into hers onto her strap, and pull her down for a kiss when she finally fully sinks into you.

hex haywire is tender. he holds you so close it’s almost suffocating, his arms wrapped around you and his face buried into your shoulder as he presses kisses onto your skin. he’ll wax poetry about how beautiful you look while taking him for the first time, how good you feel clenching around his cock, and how he wishes he’ll be the first and last. you can hardly tell if the heat in your face is from the building pressure in your abdomen or how sexy his deep voice sounds saying all of that, but he’s easily able to tell the effect he has on you.

kotoka torahime is cheeky. she’s all smiles and teases you throughout, making you so flustered you will completely forget about how nervous you were. sometimes it is unintentional like she’ll accidentally say something a little silly and will make you burst out in laughter as she smacks you with threats of not going through with it if you don’t take her seriously (she’s just saying that, of course). both of you are pretty giggly throughout, so drunk in love that the initial penetration isn’t painful in the least bit and skips straight to the pleasure.

ver vermillion is gentle. he puts you first, checking in periodically to make sure you are okay, pausing each time you groan to see if you’re alright, and just being a sweetheart. his kindness is almost to a fault, so much so that you need to beg him to cut to the chase and fuck you already since he’s probably been fingering or eating you out for what feels like forever. he gets carried away in the foreplay because he’s so scared of hurting you, so remind him you aren’t made of glass and will be fine even if he gets a little rough.

[vickyvicarious]

Then, with the fear on me of what might be, I drew a ring so big for her comfort, round where Madam Mina sat; and over the ring I passed some of the wafer, and I broke it fine so that all was well guarded. She sat still all the time—so still as one dead; and she grew whiter and ever whiter till the snow was not more pale; and no word she said. But when I drew near, she clung to me, and I could know that the poor soul shook her from head to feet with a tremor that was pain to feel. I said to her presently, when she had grown more quiet:— "Will you not come over to the fire?" for I wished to make a test of what she could. She rose obedient, but when she have made a step she stopped, and stood as one stricken. "Why not go on?" I asked. She shook her head, and, coming back, sat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open eyes, as of one waked from sleep, she said simply:— "I cannot!" and remained silent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could not, none of those that we dreaded could. Though there might be danger to her body, yet her soul was safe!

So yesterday I wrote about how the land itself seems to be affecting Mina. Ever since they left the main road behind and began to approach the castle, she has seemed distinctly more vampiric. But this scene marks the start of another change, I think. Before this moment, she's in the same state as yesterday. When they travel, Mina's fully passed out throughout the day, and she gets alert at night. She's extra charming, she refuses to eat. She isn't aggressive, but she seems to hold an unnatural stillness and attention, much like how she lay where Van Helsing asked her to sleep the night before but simply watched him all night long. She's very quiet.

And then as he puts the holy ward around her, Mina starts to get very pale. The way she does so, and the way she gets paler as he completes this task, seems almost like she is being harmed or frozen by what he is doing. In fact, it reminds me a bit of what Lucy did when the men trapped her outside her crypt:

When within a foot or two of the door, however, she stopped, as if arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp, which had now no quiver from Van Helsing's iron nerves. Never did I see such baffled malice on a face; and never, I trust, shall such ever be seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful colour became livid, the eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell-fire, the brows were wrinkled as though the folds of the flesh were the coils of Medusa's snakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square, as in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face meant death—if looks could kill—we saw it at that moment. And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, she remained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her means of entry.

There are a couple key differences, of course. Mina lacks the rage that Lucy exhibited, and she isn't trying to get away. But something about the way they both just silently freeze and watch as the holy articles are used to keep them trapped feels very reminiscent to me. Also, Jack's entry says Lucy's color "became livid" - and while that word can simply mean angry, it can also be used to mean either reddened or pallid/pale. Given the association with color in how he uses it, I assume it would be one of those. So this could also be a potential connection here, if Lucy also paled in that situation.

But then when Van Helsing gets close to her (I think after he has finished the circle) Mina's reaction of clinging to him reminds me a lot of an entirely different moment: one between her and Jonathan on October 2.

The dear girl was more affectionate with me than ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me; but there was much to be talked of and I came away.

Jonathan was putting Mina to bed (where Dracula had attacked her and would come again) so he could go talk vampire-hunting with the other men. He was actively trying to convince himself throughout this period that the choice to leave her out was correct despite his own misgivings, and Mina herself was also trying not to show how much it bothered her. Still, the only other time Mina is described as "clinging" to someone was when she tried to stop Jonathan running off after Dracula on the 3rd. It's not something she typically does, and I highly suspect it was not just out of affection in this instance. Instead, there was some part of her, suppressed though it was, that knew she was in danger and was terrified to be alone. Mina clinging to Van Helsing here could be related to her fearing for him (as she does a short while later) but I think given her behavior right before this is more easily aligned to another instance of unconscious dread for herself affecting her. The holy circle has affected her and perhaps she fears it, or maybe she fears what its affect on her means. But it's unconscious. She doesn't know why she's doing it and can't express it in words.

Then Van Helsing asks her to leave the circle. And as soon as she does, she wakes up. She freezes in realization, and then she understands. This is Mina coming back to herself much more than before. The holy circle restraining her sort of acts in the same way seeing her scar in the mirror did in the past, by awakening her to the danger her soul is in. But it also does something else, I think, and this is where I get more speculative.

After Mina is put into the circle, her behavior starts to slowly change back. She's not straight back to normal, of course. But she is no longer being super charming during the night. Instead she sits calmly, knowing why she must stay in here. When the vampire women show up, she knows how safe she is from them - both because of the circle and more importantly because she is becoming like them. And yet she does not reply to them, and she expresses her worry for Van Helsing. She looks at them with revulsion and horror - seemingly unaffected by their sweetness.

And while Mina still falls into a deep sleep during the day, she is able to wake at some point in the middle of the day to let out the wail that awakens Van Helsing from his own trance. I suspect that this was around noon, given the significance of that timing, though we don't know for sure. Regardless, she seems to be acting extra-psychic, knowing when Van Helsing is in danger and knowing of Jonathan's approach. This seems less like vampiric magic and more like Mina's own psychic abilities to me. But the real kicker is how she looks when Van Helsing returns: bad. He tells us "She was looking thin and pale and weak; but her eyes were pure and glowed with fervour. I was glad to see her paleness and her illness, for my mind was full of the fresh horror of that ruddy vampire sleep."

After a day spent within the holy circle, Mina appears more human than she has lately. And perhaps some of that is the effect of the day itself (but that hasn't been mentioned the past few days) or maybe the death of the three nearby vampires has lessened the evil influence of the area (seems quite possible, but the change in her started before this). But I think a big part of that is the holy effect surrounding her helping to cleanse at least a little of the vampiric magic within her. It's not going to be enough to heal her, not without Dracula's death, but maybe it slows the process down a little, or at least protects her somewhat from the ambient evil aura that seemed to make her symptoms so much worse so suddenly.

[tetheredbysin]

Oh I'm sorry the link didn't work for you. I agree with your assessment of Nicos support that it's both sweet but also beneficial for Nico himself. It reminded me a bit of Kevins support of Mick a few years back. Well, It's a moot point now anyways.

The interviews are similar, I'll say. Here is basically what he says in the video:

"Obviously last weekend was a really strong case for him, where he showed that if he is confident and on top form, how strong he can be and what he can do. So I was really happy personally for him as well, because I think he has had a tough year, on some occasions and it was a nice fighting back from him, for sure.

I don't know I can't predict the future, I don't make decisions. What I can say is that I've enjoyed working with him now for two years, and we have a very healthy and good relationship. I think we have a lot of mutual respect for each other, and we are just kinda on the same frequency, and it's enjoyable."

Anyway some extra info if you don't already know. Kevin was just in the Viaplay debrief today, where he said that he was only sick Friday, but choose to not participate in the rest if the weekend, because he wanted the team to have the best chance for points and a sprint weekend is too tough to jump into on Saturday. But seeing the conditions and the rain he did regret the decision and apparently a few people from Haas also wrote to him that they would have liked for him to be there and that they needed him, including Nico.

This got long, I'm sorry.

okay first off, no need to apologize, I'm just as bad when it comes to sending long asks haha! love reading them.

the comment nico made about "being on the same frequency" is endlessly interesting to me, because I only ever hear people use that description about people they really, genuinely like. partners, best friends, stuff like that. so it makes me curious how nico sees kevin compared to his previous teammates. (let's be real, the man is smitten)

I hadn't watched the viaplay debrief yet but man that's tough to hear. obviously I applaud kev for thinking of what would be best for the team but it's also really disappointing to hear that he regretted choosing not to race, especially since he would've kinda been in the same boat with everyone since the conditions for quali/the race were so different to the rest of the weekend that everyone was kinda working it out as they went. but then again, there's a part of me that isn't too mad considering how tough the race seemed to be for haas (the car did not like those conditions). tough conditions are always a chance for a huge surprise, but it's also easy to see "could've beens" as the best case scenario and not the worst. at least he was safe. he has also said that while he prefers mixed conditions, he doesn't really love extreme wet, so perhaps it wasn't the biggest loss even though he regretted it.

that being said, now the only thing I can think about is nico texting kevin post-quali and post-race like "why were you not here, I needed my emotional support dane :("

ugh, they kill me.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Welcome back to the debate! 

I feel you, you know my personal views on some scenes of the finale. I usually prefer to keep the negativity to myself because “Rings of Power” already has enough haters as it is. But yes, I do think they showed us Gil-galad's concerned expression for a reason, too. And it did remind me of Elrond in 1x08 (and the setup of his feud with Galadriel in Season 2).

Besides, we know Gil-galad also has visions of what’s to come (cortesy of Vilya); this was confirmed in 2x02, in his conversation with Galadriel, and the fandom even joked he saw dead fish, while Galadriel saw “Hot Sauron”. 

Perhaps Gil-galad had a vision we, the audience, are yet to find out about, and that's what explains his worried look.  

I know you didn’t mean the stabbing = punishment (alone), because I’m familiar with your views. However, I thought you might have thrown that idea in there because I’ve seen other fans speculating about this angle (without any other motivation, like blood binding): “Sauron stabbed Galadriel because he wanted to punish or straight-out kill her”. Usually the “killing” part; this is a very popular idea among the overall “Rings of Power” fandom, and even in the Haladriel fandom some seem to share this idea. 

I agree with you on the “turn the knife into the wound” and the “Galadriel, look at me” ideas. However, the part where Sauron gets more brutal, and if blood binding theory is correct, I think it’s because Sauron believes it’s not working and they are not binding, because Galadriel is clearly resisting and talking about his masterplan of world domination in negative terms.

And Sauron self-deceives himself, too, and has this picture perfect idea of what his plan looks like and the end result of it. Like he says to Celebrimbor, in 2x07: "I see the end, Celebrimbor. So clearly. I have seen it from the moment I awoke. But his end, it was different from mine. For what he wished to destroy, I wished... to perfect". And I think he definitely showed Galadriel this via their bond, to persuade her into joining him.

We can’t forget Sauron's motivations in healing and rebuilding Middle-earth are genuine, at this point of his character arc. He truly wants to accomplish this.

I think he did want to share his powers with Galadriel, yes. I already replied this to another fellow fan: Sauron talked about this in 1x08. “You bind me to the light, and I bind you to power.” This clearly implies he would transfer some of his power onto her during blood binding, because Adar told us in 1x05 “only blood can bind”, and Sauron was holding Finrod’s dagger in his first proposal scene:

The question here is: why on earth would Galadriel ever allow herself to be stabbed by that thing, voluntarily? Because that’s what Sauron wants, and why he carries Morgoth’s crown around, on his hand (and not on his head, for example). And he tells her “the door is still open” (for her to join him and bind herself to him).  

Yes, he was showing off his power and domination because he wanted Galadriel to see just how powerful he truly is, and how she’s no match for his power. I already talked about this here, and Charlie said something similar in one of his interviews, as well.  This was him being petty, yes, but also him saying “look at the power I could give you” or “you think you are powerful? Join me if you want true power.” 

By giving her his power, Sauron wanted to make “something” out of Galadriel. I already proposed this, but he might have wanted her to be some sort of Witch Queen not-of-Angmar; and this can either mean a leader or a follower. Except Galadriel is a natural born leader, and Sauron is natural born follower, so I don’t know how this dynamic would play out in the long term, because Sauron is not the dominant one on his dynamic with Galadriel (and I think he both loves and hates this).  

We can look at Saruman example: he joined Sauron because he was planning on taking the One ring for himself, and take Sauron’s place. Saruman is a Maia (formerly of Aulë. too). So while Saruman appeared to be a servant or a follower of Sauron, he actually wasn’t because he had hidden motives. I think this would be the same with Galadriel, and she would usurp Sauron’s place. This is pretty much the temptation the One offers her thousands of years later: In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. I know you don't want to talk about "what ifs", but I think this is revelant to what we are talking about.

I mean “blood binding” is synonymous of “blood oath” because it’s pretty much the same: two beings who are bound together by blood, and can’t act against each other, probably not even harm one another. It doesn’t necessary mean “servitude” per say, but, in a way, it is.

Blood binding and Sauron’s intentions

My pal @rey-jake-therapist and I were in one of our usual friendly discussions about this topic in one of her posts, but since the theme digresses so much from her original intent and I’m pretty much spamming her OG post by now, we decided to move the debate to here, and invite the fandom to join in.

As customary, Rey always presents good and challenging counter-arguments to mine. Because it's possible to disagree and keep it civil and friendly. This is good fandom etiquette, and this is the point of debates, after all: sharing different ideas and perspectives on the same topic. We usually end up agreeing on disagreeing and it’s all good in the end.

What were Sauron’s intentions and goals in stabbing Galadriel with Morgoth’s crown in 2x08? 

2x01 / 2x08 parallels: “Only blood can bind.” (Adar; 1x05)

1) Binding/Enslaving Galadriel to his Will

Rey made the case for Sauron’s intention of possessing and dominating Galadriel using Morgoth’s crown. And that we should focus on present intentions, and not lose yourselves in “what if” scenarios (with this I totally agree, so, let's focus on the present time).

This theory states that Sauron wanted to enslave Galadriel to his will, by having her handing over Nenya, in submission. This would explain why Galadriel seemed “bewitched” while removing Nenya from her finger, and almost surrendering it to him.  

This means Sauron has “outgrown” his intentions from 1x08, when he wanted to serve Galadriel (due to his Maia nature; he was created to be a servant to a Vala). Now, he wants full power, and he’s not willing to share it with anyone else (Galadriel included):

Sauron only wants to dominate/possess Galadriel now: she humiliated him when she refused him in 1x08, he developed an obsession for her, so he punished her with physical pain (the stabbing), and attempted to possess her so she would follow him.

And so, if blood binding theory is true, this would work like the Nine and the Nazgûl, with Galadriel not only being a servant, but a slave to Sauron. This theory can also imply she would have, indeed, become a Ringwraith herself, as her soul was entering the Unseen world (“Shadow realm”) when Gil-galad and Arondir found her.

This is a very strong theory, and I think many fellow fans share this view, as well. Would it pass Sauron to do something like this? Absolutely not, and it would not be OCC for him to have this intention, at all.

So what’s my problem, you might ask?

This facial expression right here:

Unless Charlie was having a case of fatigue eyes due to extensive use of contact lenses (speaking from personal experience), there’s no explanation for Sauron getting all teared up when he believed Galadriel was about to join him, if his intention was to enslave her to his will, and that’s what he was doing here.

And no, Galadriel can’t deceive him. This is underestimating Sauron’s power: he’s the “great deceiver”, and only he can deceive himself, really. And if they are, indeed, blood bound, Galadriel couldn’t possibly hide anything from him. And I already made the case for how Galadriel was about to join him, freely, in another post.

2) “You bind me to the light, I bind you to power”

Speaking of Sauron’s intentions, we need to remember the creator of this character and what he says about him. Tolkien tells us (in Letters 131, 153 and 183) that “Annatar” still has “fair motives”: he’s a reformer who, truly, wants to rebuild/heal Middle-earth, and he’s genuine in this endeavor (nevermind his methods, that’s why he’s a villain). Rey counter-argumented this does not translate in a desire to serve Galadriel, and she’s correct.

However, what was his intention in 1x08?  

And if Sauron still has a genuine concern in healing Middle-earth, what if his intention with Morgoth’s crown was giving Galadriel his power, while harvesting her light for himself, just like he wanted in 1x08? And if this was his intention, why would he keep her soul “trapped” in the Unseen world? What if he wanted to make her queen of the Seen and Unseen world? Not a mere queen of Middle-earth, but as nearly as possible to a literal Goddess he could serve?

Because Sauron/Mairon can’t escape his nature, he was created to be a servant, a Maia to a Vala. And, right now, he doesn’t want to serve Morgoth. Even though he does it, unconsciously, and perhaps he recognized this after he killed Celebrimbor in a rage fit (something that’s completely OCC for him, because that’s not who he is; Sauron is a control freak, a mastermind).

This scene with Galadriel happened after that; and Sauron cried because, when he looked up at Celebrimbor, all he could see was Morgoth’s bounds on him reaching the surface. And that chaotic destruction is Morgoth, not Sauron. And he doesn't want that at this point on his character arc in Tolkien lore. I think this is when Sauron makes the decision to bind himself to Galadriel, one way or the other.

I absolutely disagree with the idea that Sauron stabbed Galadriel to punish her or kill her: if that was his true intention he would have used Morgoth sword (he was already using it in his duel with Galadriel the entire time), not a powerful dark magic object infused with own blood (because Adar used it to destroy his previous physical form), nor he would have carried that thing around the entire time while mentioning "binding" twice (“I never believed I could be... Until today. Fighting at your side, I... I felt... If I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I...” (1x06); “The door is still open”).

“Binding” (usually connected with “blood oaths”) and “enslaving” are two different kinds of blood magic. Because the Nine rings of power are pieces of jewelry meant to be worn by ring-bearers, with a small dosage of Sauron’s blood (along with other specific spells). Morgoth’s crown not only has a lot of Sauron’s blood on it, but we also don’t know what kind of dark magic it actually contains: we only know it was made to hold the Silmarils and it can destroy Sauron’s physical form (implying that, maybe, Sauron doesn’t have much control over this object?).

Sauron accidentally sharing his power with Galadriel is nonsense to me, as well. He's ancient, has been around since before the world existed (he helped create that very world), has been a master in blood magic and every sort of sorcery for thousands of years, and he’s one of the most powerful Maia in existence, but isn’t aware he would be giving Galadriel some of his power by binding himself to her? When he clearly mentions this in 1x08? "I bind you to power". Because Galadriel appears to be seeing the world in a whole new way in 2x08 epilogue (and even her eyes look off):

Besides, Galadriel is suppose to be a powerful sorceress of her own right in Tolkien lore, mastering several powers. In the legendarium Galadriel own power was amplified by Nenya, yes, but this isn’t the case in “Rings of Power”, because we haven’t seen her displaying any magical powers in Season 1. She won’t have any other powers in the show (besides healing and foresight/visions), completely cutting off with Tolkien legendarium? If the show keeps it true to the lore on that bit, where did her powers (look into others’ hearts and minds, and communicate telepathically) come from? Will they “magically” appear out of nowhere? When and how? But, if these powers came from Sauron it’s because he wanted it to happen, and that was his intention. And if that was his intention, what was his purpose with this if not to serve her?

And Sauron does share power: he does share his power with those he wants to enslave; via the rings of power. That’s why Celebrimbor tells him he’s their prisoner, and not their master. However, these are two very different kinds and degrees of magic. Because with the rings ("enslave") he can control how he wants it to go; while sharing his actual power with another living being ("blood oath") is uncontrollable. He can’t possible know the end result of it.

I know there’s a popular theory that Adar was blood bound to Sauron, but I don’t think so. Adar not only doesn't have any magical powers, but he wouldn’t be able to kill Sauron himself, if that was true. Blood binding is a blood oath, and it’s forever, unbreakable, and it prevents beings from harming or acting against one another (physically) in any direct way. That’s why “Rings of Power” introduced the clue that Sauron might be blood bound to Morgoth in 1x03; and that’s the reason he could never leave nor forsake his master even when he came to resent him.

This means, that, in "Rings of Power", Sauron, most likely, only has Morgoth as a reference to blood oaths. And he probably thinks this will go the same way with Galadriel, and he’ll keep her light to himself, allowing him to keep Morgoth at bay. Only her “light” is merely aesthetic, really. The light that shines on her hair and eyes is the light of the Two Trees of Valinor, and it shines on every Elf that was born during the Years of the Trees (and not only her). Because Galadriel is a complex and nuanced character, and ticking bomb that can turn dark at any minute.